


Merlock Drabble

by RebeccaOTool



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Merlock, Not AU, OctoJohn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaOTool/pseuds/RebeccaOTool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my ongoing quest to make silly things feasible with cannon. Not an AU where they've been living in the sea their whole lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merlock Drabble

Moriarty swung past Sherlock and John, nearly skittering off the edge of the dock. Sherlock had figured out his scheme slightly faster than anticipated. Sebastian wasn’t even in position yet!

His teeth clenched as the two men pounded down the rotting wood after him. He’d have to go to his beta plan.

"Moriarty!" Sherlock’s fingers brushed the back of his collar. He increased his stride and fumbled for the syringe in his pocket.

When a hand clamped onto his shoulder, Moriarty slammed the syringe into it and plunged the depressor halfway. The hand withdrew with a roar, a scrabble, and a splash. Moriarty grinned. Sherlock had fell into the sea.

"Sherlock!" John was a few paces behind his long-limbed flatmate.

"I’m fine, get him!" Sherlock popped to the surface and scrabbled at the weather-worn wood of the dock.

This changed everything. Moriarty tucked his hand behind his back, syringe glistening in the moonlight. One-on-one, he was in no danger at all. Especially when that one was Dr. Watson.

As John approached him, Moriarty jumped forward, plunging the needled into John’s neck. John cried out, grappled for him, and followed Sherlock into the water.

His heart was racing anew as the two men struggled to stay afloat. “What’s wrong, boys? Having a little trouble?”

Sherlock’s long pale hands slipped off the wood. “What have you done?!”

"Just a little human testing. Don’t get so riled, Shirley, it’s nonfatal as far as we know." Moriarty sat in the middle of the dock to watch the fun.

John, despite being injected second, was first to succumb to the effects. He gasped, grasping at his throat. “Sherlock—”

Sherlock turned but couldn’t move fast enough to prevent his friend from slipping under the water. “JOHN!”

He dove in after, much to Moriarty’s disappointment. Sighing, the super-criminal got up, smoothed his suit, and started back towards land. There was little and less he’d be able to see from land.

0o0o0o0

John was sinking, but he hardly noticed. The pain ripping through his legs and neck was all he could focus on. His eyes rolled back, and he saw something descending from above at a frightening speed, back-lit by moonlight.

'A shark?!' He tried to kick, but didn't make any headway. A bubble of precious air escaped his lips.

Something sharp bit into his arm. He shrieked, losing the last of his air. But it wasn’t teeth digging into his wrist.

'Sherlock!' The water was too dark, but fingers were clamped firmly about his wrist, dragging him upwards. Something was wrong, though—the nails on his hand were like claws. Or maybe the cold water just made it feel worse.

Actually, the water didn’t feel so cold any more. ‘Hypothermia. It’s got to be.’

As Sherlock dragged him upwards, his vision grew clearer. His lungs didn’t feel as cramped either. In fact, he felt fine.

Suddenly his head crested above the waves, and the feeling of well-being vanished. Something flooded his airways, choking him. Beside him Sherlock was gasping, skin paper-white. Some kind of wound rippled on his neck. His fingers slipped from John’s wrist, and John sank back into the water. 

The instant water entered his mouth and nose, everything became clear again.

'What…' John looked down at himself, and his eyes went wide.

His legs had been replaced with a writing mass of red tentacles. He stared, transfixed, as the wavering limbs kept him afloat.

'This is impossible!'

Above him, something slapped weakly at the water. He looked up, eyes clear and unburned despite the murky seawater.

Sherlock thrashed, struggling to stay afloat. His legs were gone: a blue scaled tail churned the water.

'He's suffocating!' John reached for Sherlock's coat lapel and pulled with all his might. The weakened detective barely put up a fight as John drew him into the depths.

"Sherlock!" His voice sounded odd, but it was clear enough. "Sherlock, listen to me: breathe!"

Sherlock looked at him, lips sealed tight, eyes wide with horror.

"I know it sounds crazy, but please, you have to try…and…" John trailed off. Gills were opening and closing along Sherlock’s neck. "Oh my God, Sherlock, what the hell happened to us?"

"John." Sherlock’s first word underwater came out as a raspy cough. Air-bubbles sprayed from his mouth as he hacked up the last of the useless oxygen in his system.

John raised a tentative hand to his own neck and encountered his own set of gills. “What the hell did Moriarty do to us?”

Sherlock looked at his friend, eyes wide with terror. “He’s gotten me off the case.”

"That’s all you can say?!"

Sherlock looked down at his body with mounting horror. “I can’t detect like this! I can’t even breathe! John, he’s destroyed my career!”

"WHAT ABOUT OUR LEGS?!" John grabbed his coat lapel. "What about our bodies, Sherlock?! He’s made us into some kid of fish men, and all you care about is being able to detect things?! What about OUR LIVES?”

Sherlock looked at John as though he were a bit thick. “Detecting IS my life.”

John let go of his coat. “Well you could have said it clearer.”

Sherlock looked up. The moon rippled above them, sending beams into the deep.

"What are we going to do?" John felt a tentacle curl around Sherlock’s tail and yanked on it. "Sorry, they seem to have a mind of their own."

Sherlock watched him. “We need to get my brother’s attention. Much as I loath to admit it, I won’t be able to solve this without some help.”

"And how exactly do we do that?" John tried to ignore a somehow tasty-looking bunch of fish swimming close to their feet—fins—tentacles—whatever.

"We must go to the naval yard and find a ship with underwater cameras. I imagine Mycroft will respond quickly enough if we swim past a few times."

"Oh God, this is really happening." John watched as Sherlock swam, getting used to the new propulsion system. "It is insane!"

"John, you seem to be something of an octopus. Try drawing water into yourself and projecting it again: you should move headfirst."

"I have no idea how to do that." John crossed his arms.

Sherlock sighed, grabbed him with a hand that was now webbed and sported long thick nails, and began swimming. “You better learn quickly. I don’t want to drag you about until we’ve solved this.”

"Won’t be detecting anymore my ass." John muttered as Sherlock towed him along.

0o0o0o0o0

The end...?

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more, if I'm inspired.


End file.
